


Give Me Mercy No More

by AustinB



Series: Stucky Wonderland [4]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: 1940s, Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Omega Bucky Barnes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Smut, WWII, oblivious idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 10:18:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5371670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AustinB/pseuds/AustinB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sorry about..." </p><p>"Don't worry about it," Steve interrupts, because if he has to listen to Bucky apologize for kissing him, for holding him like he actually needed him for once, for giving him jerk-off material for the rest of his life, he might actually scream.</p><p>"And," Bucky rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Thanks."</p><p>Steve shrugs. He's been practicing this part. A casual smile, a friendly tone. "Hey, what're friends for, right?"</p><p>Bucky's smile is tight around his mouth and eyes. "Right."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me Mercy No More

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Give Me Mercy No More](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8545111) by [Skata](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skata/pseuds/Skata)



i.

"I thought you were dead."

"I thought you were smaller."

Bucky's eyes are glazed, pupils all but engulfing his beautiful icy blue eyes, and the full-blown Omega-in-heat hormones that mingle with the smoke in the air are making Steve dizzy. The scientists with Project Rebirth had no idea how this new body would metabolize suppressants, so they've been shooting him up with just under the overdose limit.

Thank God for small favors. That makes it unlikely Bucky's heat will kickstart his rut. 

"Why do you smell so...different?" Bucky asks. Steve resolutely ignores Bucky's right hand traveling from his chest to his hip. He's half-carrying his best friend with an arm around his waist, and he's never been this close to an Omega in heat before, not since the serum made his body strong enough to support a full rut as an Alpha. Even though the suppressants are doing their job and staving off his rut, the hormones are still going to his head a little.

"I finally presented," he says, trying to keep his voice even and calm. Trying to be the leader here.

"As?" Bucky's not watching where they're going. He's watching Steve's face, letting him half drag him along. Like Steve's the only thing that matters, even more than getting out of the building alive. It's equal parts flattering and annoying at this very moment.

"Alpha." Steve knows he should've said "an Alpha" and he definitely shouldn't have used the deep Alpha timbre of his voice, the same voice that Bucky knows from long nights on the fire escape, Coney Island and Brooklyn. But the success of finding Bucky alive is buzzing in his blood, a harrowing rescue is heady for an Alpha. Bucky's looking haggard and weak and the need to protect what's his is filling his head.

Bucky sags against him a little, and Steve hikes him up, readjusting his grip as they shuffle along another nondescript corridor. Voices sound up ahead; German. There's a door to the right and Steve pulls Bucky through it, closes the door softly behind them. It's a supply closet, barely big enough for two. Bucky leans against the wall, jostling the mop leaning in the corner. 

Steve has his ear pressed against the metal door. The speakers are standing still; making a plan? And then Bucky is plastered up against his back, his hands wrap around Steve's chest, smoothing against the planes of muscle. 

"Bucky?" Steve can feel the heat of his body through their clothes; it's like he's on fire.

"Steve, Stevie, _please_."

Steve turns in Bucky's arms, grabs his shoulders and forcibly moves him backward. His Omega _needs_ him, and while his body has certainly noticed, Steve's mind is still clear. The voices are far enough away that they probably can't hear, but Steve would rather not risk it at this point. He could take them on his own, but with Bucky in a delicate condition—absolutely not.

"Quiet."

It's dark, but Steve can see Bucky tip his chin up to bare his throat, responding to the Alpha command in his voice. He doesn't make a sound, but he's shivering, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. Steve can hear the Germans outside just fine without pressing his ear to the door, so he stays where he is, holding onto Bucky to make sure he doesn't move; doesn't speak. Priority number one is getting his Omega somewhere safe. But he's swaying on his feet, the heat burning him up. He probably hasn't had anything to drink all day; they're not notoriously good to prisoners here. Going through a heat alone is bad enough, but being underfed, dehydrated and probably tortured; Steve wants to rip off the heads and arms off everyone who did this to his best friend.

So when Bucky sways forward again, a plea on his lips, Steve meets him halfway. He palms Bucky's cock, squeezing gently just once, his lips hovering over the plump pink ones he's dreamt of since he was 14. Bucky whines, hips jerking up and Steve can feel the hot pulse of cum dampening the front of Bucky's pants. Bucky sags against him, his face at the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply of whatever Alpha scent he can get off Steve's suppressant-riddled glands. 

Steve can't participate as fully as he would like, but he presses Bucky against the wall next to the mop and noses into his neck, just at the hinge of his jaw where his scent is strongest. The soft noises his friend is making call to a part of him he hasn't had much experience with, and it surprises him when he licks up Bucky's neck to bite his earlobe. 

When Bucky's ready again, far quicker than Steve expects for someone treated so poorly, he grabs at Steve's shoulders, pulling him down into his lips and kisses him frantically. When Bucky licks into his mouth, Steve presses him hard against the wall, rolling his hips into him and spilling into his U.S. Army regulation underpants. He's just glad he'd changed out of his tights.

Steve opens up Bucky's fly and gets his hand inside. There's sticky cum drying on his skin, so Steve spits into his hand—Bucky whines at that, and Steve kisses him again to cut it off. He strokes Bucky hard and fast—adrenaline still pumping in his veins—they don't have much time. Bucky's got both his hands on Steve's ass to hold him close, but he moves one around to feel the hardness of Steve's cock through his pants. Bucky keens into his mouth when he comes into Steve's fist. Steve can see well enough in the pitch black to make out the flash of blue in his eyes; he's sure his are glowing gold, but there's no way Bucky could see it. 

Bucky palms Steve's cock and he can't help but thrust up into it. He's not in a rut, but the serum gave him a miraculous refractory period. Bucky moves to unbutton his cargo pants, but Steve hears shuffling in the hallway and clamps his hand over Bucky's shaking ones to stop him.

The voices outside move away, and Steve senses the opportunity to get his Omega—his best friend—his Bucky—to safety. Steve buttons up Bucky's pants and pulls him out of the closet. At least he looks a little clearer-minded now, still sweating but no longer pale and drawn. The color's back in his cheeks, and Steve can be glad for that. 

By the time they make it out of the building and hook up with the rest of the Howling Commandos, Bucky's shivering again, letting Steve drag him along. He's sure they can smell it on them, the scent of coupling. They're all Betas, thank God for medium-sized favors, but Steve still hopes they can smell the desperation and fear on him as well and know he'd had no choice. They look upon him with respect and gratitude, and if Steve puffs up his chest a little, he'll blame it on biology.

Bucky's at the tail end of his heat, so when they march far enough away for Steve to deem safe, they set up a relatively private camp for him to rest. He's coherent enough to work through it on his own, though he did send Steve what he (probably generously) interpreted as a longing look before dipping under the tarp they'd strung up for him. 

Steve hovers nearby, because he's worried about his friend--not because he's hoping Bucky'll ask him in. No sir. There's no place in their sad Hooverville 'camp' that would've been far enough away for Steve to not hear Bucky's moans and gasps as he takes himself in hand, so he might as well sit close enough to be of use if Bucky just so happens to require him.

Steve takes watch all night, because his hormones are still amped up enough that he won't be able to sleep even if he tried. Millions of years of evolution and one souped-up super serum ensure he's able to keep his Omega safe for the duration of the heat. He probably won't feel the need to eat for the next few days, either, which is just as well. And he _really_ needs to stop thinking of Bucky as _his_. 

Bucky emerges in the early morning hours, while most of the camp is still catching up on much-needed rest. He looks better, but there are still ghosts in his eyes. Steve's not sure a week of good hard sleep will fix that, but he'll do his best.

"Hey," Steve smiles. Now that the haze has mostly cleared, it's sinking in that he's gotten his best friend back. God, he'd missed him so much.

Bucky grins. "Heya Stevie." Steve pulls him into a hug and it's like a reunion all over again, with Bucky finally clear-headed. He smells warm and safe and like he's still got _Steve_ all over him. It makes Steve want to growl, but he forces it down.

"Sorry about..." 

"Don't worry about it," Steve interrupts, because if he has to listen to Bucky apologize for kissing him, for holding him like he actually needed him for once, for giving him jerk-off material for the rest of his life, he might actually scream.

"And," Bucky rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Thanks."

Steve shrugs. He's been practicing this part. A casual smile, a friendly tone. "Hey, what're friends for, right?"

Bucky's smile is tight around his mouth and eyes. "Right."

* * *

ii.

They don't talk about it. There's no need to. The easy friendship between them is unchanged, and they get Bucky back on suppressants so Steve won't be distracted by the summery salty dance-hall smell of him.

The brains at Project Rebirth decide to lower his suppressant dosage when they're at base between missions, to test how well he metabolizes it and ensure the extended high dosage won't have any adverse effects. So he and the Howlies have a nice long two-week break while they fiddle and experiment on him.

When they cut it back to normal levels, he burns through it immediately. Of course, Bucky's around, and even if Steve can't smell him, his brain connects the dots and sends him into overdrive.

Steve doesn't even realize it until he's back in his room after dinner and peels off his soaked shirt.

"Shit," he mutters. He hasn't had a rut since the very beginning of this new body. It was as though the moment his brain realized his body could finally handle a rut, it threw one at him. It had been terrible, and he'd had two more, closer together, longer and harder than normal, after being pent up for so long, as the scientists figured out how to keep him on suppressants. 

He hopes his body's evened out a little since then, and isn't too mad at him for suppressing the natural cycle for the last six months. He snags Jones in the hallway. The Beta wrinkles up his nose at the smell of an Alpha in pre-rut. Steve rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, I know. Would you let the doctor know? And would you mind grabbing me some chow when you can?"

"'Course, buddy. Good luck."

"Thanks," Steve mutters, and flips the flimsy lock to the door of his quarters. It's nothing a good hard kick couldn't bust, but it gives the illusion of privacy. One perk of being an officer. 

The rut comes on fast and hard, and he's naked but for his briefs on his tiny cot, sweating it out with a kerchief full of cum on the bedside table. He hears footsteps stop outside his door, the scratching of metal on metal and then his door opens.

Bucky slips inside, locks the door behind him.

"Bucky." He means it to be a question, but it comes out more as a sigh. Bucky grins at him. "Did you just...jimmy my lock?"

He shrugs, takes a step into the room. "Wanted to see if I still could. And I thought you might want some help."

This clarity won't last long. His focus is narrowing down to Bucky's nearness; frustrated that he can't smell him but remembering the scent of his heat effectively enough to make his fingers itch to touch him. If Bucky doesn't high-tail it to the other side of the base, Steve can't be trusted not to follow him.

"You don't have to...pay me back for anything." 

Bucky shakes his head. "I know. It's not like that. That last heat, with you there, was the easiest I've ever had."

"I can get by on my own," Steve says mulishly, and it makes Bucky smile.

"I know. But you don't have to." Bucky sits on the edge of his cot and places his hand over the head of Steve's cock through his briefs. Steve's vision goes blurry for a second.

"I—we—" He means to say _we shouldn't_ , but instead, he reaches up and pulls Bucky down on top of him. Bucky swings his leg over Steve's hips and wastes no time in grinding down onto Steve's cock. Steve pulls at Bucky's green sweater, sitting up so he can shuck it off his shoulders and press his lips against his collarbone, take one nipple into his mouth and suck gently. When Bucky moans, Steve's lizard brain takes over completely.

He rolls them out of the cot—too small for what he wants to do anyway—and onto the floor. He catches Bucky's head in his hand before it can hit the floor and yanks his flat pillow and flimsy blanket down with them, then loses himself in nosing at Bucky's neck and thrusting against his cock.

Bucky pushes Steve's briefs off his ass so he can palm it, pulling them closer together, then Steve wriggles them off completely. He strips Bucky of his remaining clothes and sits back on his heels for a moment. All he wants is ... everything ... all at once. But the sight is too beautiful not to appreciate. There's a blush high on Bucky's cheeks, his eyes dark and he's spread out for Steve like a feast.

Never in a million years would he have dreamt...well, he _did_ dream this once or twice or a thousand times, but never thought he'd actually _get_ it.

Steve crawls back over Bucky's body and ruts into the place between his cock and his thigh, watching transfixed when he spurts white streams onto Bucky's belly. He wipes his hand in it and wraps it around Bucky's cock, jerking him until he tips his chin up to bare his throat and paints himself with his own release. 

Steve takes a moment to wipe the mess from Bucky's stomach with the rag he'd been using, then starts to kiss and rub up against him again.

"You can—Steve, Steve—I want you to—" Bucky's saying something, and while all of Steve's senses are tuned in to him, he doesn't understand until Bucky fishes a tin of slick out of the pants that had been fortuitously thrown near his head. Steve is burning up with the desire to stake his claim, so he slicks up his finger and Bucky pulls his knees up. Steve dips one finger into the tight heat of Bucky's body to find he's already loose and ready. Steve groans, dropping his forehead against Bucky's chest. The little shit had prepared for this. A chuckle rumbles through Bucky's chest and he pets the back of Steve's head.

"C'mon baby," he whispers, and even though Steve is the Alpha here, he responds to the plea as though it were a command. He's vaguely surprised he doesn't just spontaneously combust when he pushes into Bucky, not taking his eyes off the Omega's, and can see the dizzy unfocused look of pleasure in his friend's features. He thrusts slow and easy until he's sure Bucky's comfortable, then drives into him with a barbarity he's never felt before. He'll be gentle next time, worshipful, but right now, he needs to make Bucky _his_.

When he comes, he bites down hard on Bucky's shoulder. Not hard enough to mark, but hard enough for Bucky to know it crossed his mind. Bucky yells out something, expletives peppered with his name, and shoots hot cum where his cock has been rubbing between their bodies. Steve stays buried in him for a long moment, his face pressed into his neck—lost completely.

When he comes to, he cleans Bucky up again, thoroughly this time, arranges the pillow under his head and gets him a glass of water. Bucky drinks it, bemused, though Steve doesn't notice it. He just watches Bucky's Adam's apple bob and takes the glass from his fingers when he's done, replaces it with his face, pressing kisses to his palm and fingertips.

Once he's checked outside the window and the door, he crawls back up Bucky's body, pressing kisses to his thighs, hips, stomach and chest, until he reaches his lips and kisses him sweetly. He peppers chaste kisses across his face, his nose, eyelids, under his ear. He slicks himself up again and fucks him slowly, so slowly that Bucky tries to flip them over and take control, but Steve catches his wrists and holds them up over his head. Bucky bares his throat again, and Steve drags his teeth along his pulse point to the tune of Bucky's moans. 

He shifts his grip so he's holding both Bucky's wrists in one hand and reaches down between them to jerk Bucky in time with his thrusts, slowing down when Bucky gets close, then picking back up again so they tip over the edge of ecstasy together, Steve spilling inside of Bucky, and Bucky spilling over Steve's fist and both their chests. Steve bites down at the base of his neck this time, not as hard as before, but it still makes an extra firework blow at the back of his mind. He keeps his teeth on Bucky's skin for a moment, as his cock pulses through the aftershocks of his orgasm and Bucky's moans have died down, then licks and kisses the small pink indentations.

He repeats his perimeter check and ensures Bucky's comfortable, though he tries to refuse the glass of water.

"Drink it," Steve commands, the rumble in his voice full of the power of his Alpha rut.

"Sir, yes sir," Bucky says, but his pupils are blown and it lacks the usual sass.

After the third time, when he crawls back up Bucky's body, Bucky laughs against his ear.

"I can't, I can't."

Steve jerks back, but Bucky reaches up to him. Steve lets Bucky move him onto his back on the cot; relinquishes control with no hesitation, even though Bucky's baring his teeth—no, he's smiling. He's happy. He can do whatever he wants as long as he's happy.

Bucky moves between Steve's thighs and looks up from under his eyelashes as he licks the tip of Steve's cock. It jumps happily, and Bucky suckles at the head for several long minutes. Steve's hands are bunching in the threadbare sheet under them, and when his control loses out and he thrusts up into Bucky's mouth, the Omega swallows down the length of him.

**

Steve retrieves the food Jones leaves for him in the morning, confused to find it's a double ration. 

"I asked him to give you more, said your super-metabolism would need it for a rut."

Smart. His Omega's smart. Steve kisses him.

Bucky has to leave briefly over the next several days. Steve's coherent enough to understand this, but he growls unhappily when the door closes behind him.

But Bucky always comes back to him. Sometimes in the afternoon if he can, and Steve, pacing the room, both preens and growls to see him moving gingerly. He takes his release alone when he has to, but it's unfulfilling. He pounces on Bucky when he returns in the evenings, and Bucky laughs, happy and secure.

In the last day of his rut, Steve finally climbs back up from his hindbrain. 

"Oh god, Bucky I'm so sorry," he says when the Omega wakes. The room smells like sex and Alpha and safety.

"What for?" 

"I...bit you," Steve chokes, the memory crystal clear and making his cock throb.

"Twice, actually," Bucky says with a smug grin as he pulls his pants on.

"Oh god." Steve drops his head into his hands, sitting in the wooden chair behind the tiny desk in the room.

"Wouldja relax? You think I'da come here if I didn't know what I was getting into?"

Bucky kneels in front of him and tips his chin up, but Steve leans away before Bucky's lips can touch his. Bucky looks like Steve's just stabbed him, and he tries not to think about that.

"I'm ok. I'll be fine, now."

"Right." Bucky yanks his shirt on and moves to the door.

"Hey, Buck," Steve says gently, because Bucky's mad and he doesn't understand why. "Thanks. You were right, it really did help. A lot."

Bucky smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Hey, what're friends for?"

* * *

 iii.

Bucky shouldn't be going into heat. He's taking the normal dose of suppressants, but Steve can scent the pre-heat hormones hovering around him, fruity and alluring. They're shoulder to shoulder at a table in the mess hall. When Bucky makes a joke and bumps their shoulders together, he jerks back so hard he throws himself off the bench and lands on his ass.

The Howlies laugh at him, unable to scent the reason for his alarm just yet, but Bucky's looking concerned.

"Steve, you ok?" Things have felt strained between them. They work just fine together on missions, better even, like two halves of one whole, but Steve can't seem to relax enough to joke and mess around with his team like he could before. He's caught himself once or twice reaching out to Bucky, to take his hand or brush his hair off his forehead. And that's not what this is. He can't ask for too much or he'll lose his friend completely. 

Steve high-tails it to his quarters, because all the suppressants in the world are no match for the scent of his Omega—he _really_ needs to stop thinking of Bucky as _his_ —going into heat. He takes the time to let the doctor know, and he fusses over him for a moment, frowning, before letting him go, because there's sweat beading on his forehead and it's hitting him hard.

When he gets to his room, Bucky's waiting outside the door. The scent hits him the same time he catches sight of him.

“No. You can't be here.” They're not bonded, so the Alpha command in his voice gets ignored. Bucky answers by turning the doorknob and slipping inside the room. Steve growls and follows him in, breathing through his mouth.

“Bucky we need to be careful. If we keep this up…”

Bucky's not as far along as he is, and he's standing next to the cot with his arms crossed, looking ready for a fight.

“What? Agent Carter will think we’ve bonded?”

“Everyone will.”

Bucky crushes his jaw, eyes steely. “I don’t want to go through it alone. I don’t want you to either.”

“I’ll be fine. You can go get somebody else.” Steve doesn't mean to sound so petulant. Bucky rolls his eyes, exasperated.

“I don’t want somebody else, Steve.”

In two steps, Bucky shoves him up against the closed door and kisses him. Steve's instincts take over and he spins them so it's Bucky's back up against the door. It’s the best thing Steve has ever tasted and his eyes roll shut. He leans into it, pressing Bucky harder against the door for a moment before clarity returns to him. He pulls back, but Bucky has his hands wrapped in Steve's lapels and doesn't let him get too far.

“We can’t—“

“Steve, just listen to me—"

“No. You’re gonna make it sound like a great idea, but I can't let—I can't let—”

“Steve, you stupid lunk, I want this." Bucky shakes him by his lapels for emphasis. "I want you to be my Alpha.”

Steve’s mouth goes dry. And because the power of speech is rapidly failing him, he can only repeat dumbly, “You want…”

“You. Yes." He looks bemused for a flash, before sobering. "I have for a long time. Longer than I'd like to admit to, because I was a coward and a..."

"Punk." Steve's proud that he's able to both finish his sentence and insult him with one of the few words left in his vocabulary.

Bucky grins. "Jerk. Now please, just shut up and kiss me.”

And this, he knows. This, he can do. His reply is mostly air against Bucky's lips: "Sir, yes sir."

**Author's Note:**

> And then Bucky doesn't fall and they live happily ever after the end.
> 
> Title from Hozier's "It Will Come Back"  
> you know better babe/you know better babe  
> than to hold me just/hold me just like that  
> i know who i am/when i'm alone  
> i'm something else when i see you  
> you don't understand/you should never know  
> how easy you are to need  
> don't let me in with no intention to keep me  
> Jesus Christ don't be kind to me  
> Honey don't feed me/I will come back  
> It can't be unlearned/I've known the warmth of your doorways  
> Through the cold/I'll find my way back to you  
> Oh please, give me mercy no more  
> That's a kindness you can't afford  
> I want you baby tonight/as sure as you're born  
> You'll hear me howling outside your door
> 
> I hear Stucky in that entire album


End file.
